


The Battle of Grommashar

by RowlettLesbian



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Death Knight, Gen, Humor, World of Warcraft: Warlords of Draenor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 03:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15832446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowlettLesbian/pseuds/RowlettLesbian
Summary: Thrall is very glad the Death Knight is on his side. He doesn't think he could handle losing to such a moron.Also he'd appreciate if his wife was more sympathetic to his plight.





	The Battle of Grommashar

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the time I was questing in Nagrand and Thrall suggested we split up and I immediately got super fucking lost.

Sinestrella tried. She really did. And Thrall appreciated it! Truly! And yet…

“The commander is pretty dense for a war hero, Goel.” Ah, Aggra. Always voicing the truth Thrall didn’t wish to face.

The orc couple winced as Sinestrella stomped back from yet another wrong turn within Grommashar. It was her third yet. Half of the Warsong Orcs she’d slain seemed to have been killed out of a lack of any better idea, rather than due to any sense of bloodlust of the sort Death Knights, excluding their fierce commander, were infamous for.

Draka raced past carrying two knives per hand, and in her wake she shouted “50 gold she starts asking them for directions before she kills them!”

Thrall puffed himself up to defend his champion but was forced to abruptly whip about when Aggra muttered “sucker bet” and tapped his shoulder. Thrall watched and cringed as Sinestrella, having obviously heard them, turned to the nearest Warsong warrior and froze them in place before muttering in her perpetually earnest tone with a pointer finger waving about.

“So…um…is Royal Road up the hill that way? Or should I follow the wolves…?”

The poor trapped warrior, who had been bracing himself for some undoubtedly vicious interrogation from the necromantic abomination, deflated with the look of a man who had faced death and been met with a bad joke at his expense. The trapped orc slowly glanced towards the hill, to Royal Road, which happened to be directly behind Sinestrella. Sinestrella, strategist of Northrend, breaker of the scourge’s hold on Azeroth, didn’t notice and continued to stare blankly at the captured orc. Thrall half expected her to say “please”.

“Do you think all the ice she uses slows her down? Or maybe she’s just bad with maps? And people? And words?” Aggra was absentmindedly pulling some talbuk jerky out the pocket of a nearby dead enemy. One her wolf had killed, by the looks of it.

The Warsong orc Sinestrella had nabbed had apparently, for some reason or another, decided that telling Sinestrella to simply TURN AROUND to find the pathway up was still too much of a slight on his honor. Thrall could almost sympathize. The commander was now wiping her left blade on the felled warrior’s pants with a little pout settling around her hypoxic mouth. Thrall was tempted to try and explain respect for the dead to Sinestrella again, but he knew how pointless THAT was. Sinestrella couldn’t seem to move past corpses as a case of “finders keepers” and “well you should have cremated him then!”

Aggra was comparing bits of dried meat from the pockets of several nearby dead warsong with a piece of jerky sticking out of her mouth.

Thrall sighed and hefted his hammer, resigned once again to a day surrounded by women who hadn’t met a boundary not begging to be broken.

In Sinestrella’s case, that even included the boundary between life and death.


End file.
